


Screams for What Could Have Been

by whoms_account_be_this



Category: Degrassi
Genre: Gen, gay male author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:11:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoms_account_be_this/pseuds/whoms_account_be_this
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Degrassi Scream AU. The students of Degrassi must try to survive as murderers slay them one by one in the name of justice - justice for what could have been, and did not happen. Entire cast of season 14 is present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: Set sometime in later season 14B.
> 
> Warnings: This is a serial killer AU. Every warning that can exist, may exist. This applies beyond violence, though I cannot promise one way or another if this statement is necessary to avoid spoilers. And, to be very clear, character death.

**Screams for What Could Have Been**

Hello, dear readers. This is the part where you imagine the ominous, dead silence as you see Alli Bhandari sitting on the couch, and you see that her eyes are glazed over with disinterest at the too bright TV. You know this is a story about murder, and you know she is going to die. With that in mind, let's see how it happens:

Alli Bhandari sighed as she flicked through the channels on TV. Dallas was late; incredibly, incredibly late. She was never one to flick through channels as she was often too busy with school to watch TV much less flick mindlessly through the multitude of mindless channels. The only reason she was glued to the seat was because she and Dallas were supposed to watch a movie tonight; that movie was long over, so she flicked through the channels one by one to distract herself from her racing thoughts.

She was boy-crazy. People, especially Clare, often told her that. But it didn't change that fact that needing a guy to want her was her driving force. It sickened her at times, but she never knew how to break out of that behavior. That's why she sat here now, wondering where Dallas was. Was he done with her? Did he get into a car accident? Did he find a better girl?

These thoughts were cut short as her phone range. Well, not her phone, but the home phone. She sighed and groaned to the heavens. Why the hell did her mother insist on keeping a home phone? It was 20-fucking-14. But alas, she would have to answer it. She threw a forlorn look at her cell on the coffee table and stood with a huff as she tip-toed to the kitchen to answer the screeching phone.

"Hello," she exhaled in an angry puff as she rolled her eyes at the world around her.

"Do you like scary movies?" an all too familiar voice spoke. It wasn't a voice she had ever heard before in real life, but it was  _that_  voice. The one from the movies that matched the line it spoke so perfectly. It was almost comical in a way. The voice showed that its wielder didn't take things serious – that it took sadistic, comical pleasure in torment.

But that doesn't happen in real life. That's why Alli Bhandari knew it was fake.

"Very funny, Dallas," she said without amusement. She shook her head pulled out a seat from the kitchen table to take a seat, annoyed by the cord on the phone nearly as much as she was by Dallas. Why did her mother insist on all this old fashioned stuff anyway?

"Where the hell are you?" she asked Dallas. "I waited 3 hours on you. Our movie ended before you got here."

She shook with the terror of her soul when the voice laughed.

"No, no, no. You're supposed to tell me that you do. Though, I have to say, I'm happy you've revised the script. It'll make things more… in-ter-esting…" the voice trailed off.

Alli's hand shook around the phone at the sadism that dripped through the voice and phone, and into the air around her.

"Not funny, Dallas," she intoned slowly, enunciating every word. "You know there are some sickos out there. You can't just do calls like this to be funny. Are you with Drew? Was this his idea? Are you drunk?"

The voice laughed. "I'm not Dallas," the voice declared with a twisted giggle.

Alli felt a knife of fear stab her through the heart. Whatever the voice was, it wasn't human – that was the only thought on her mind and she ran to the living room crying with fear.

Her phone! She had to get her phone which she left on the coffee table next to the couch. She jumped over the couch in a jumbled mess and began rubbing her arms over the coffee table feeling for her phone. Her heart was beating wildly as she couldn't find it, and she wondered why it was so dark in the room. She had left the TV on…

She screamed at the implication, tears now flowing freely down her face – if her phone wasn't where she left it, and her TV was off then… that voice was in the house. She stumbled to her feet as she ran back to the kitchen. She cried out as she jammed her knee into a doorway in her rush, but only a whimper was heard over her panicked screams.

She needed a weapon, something and anything, to defend herself. She dashed for the drawer that had held the knives for as long as her memories existed and felt around. It was dark and she wished that she had turned on the light, but it was too late to do that now. Any moment she wasn't armed left her more vulnerable to the owner of that voice. Her finger brushed the wide blade of butcher's knife and she pulled it out of the drawer and swung it around her wildly in case someone had snuck up on her.

She hit only air and her cries turned into hiccups as she brandished the weapon in a shaky grip in front of her. Her body convulsed with fear as she walked towards the doorway to hit the light switch as her head rotated around her to keep an eye on all entrances to the room – the doorway she was approaching, the kitchen door that led outside, the window over the sink, and the opening to the dining room.

Her world shattered around her as she hit the switch and nothing happened, and she fell to the floor in tears as the voice returned.

"The thrill. The thrill of seeing your victim cry in terror on the floor," the voice laughed. "It is… in-tox-i-cating."

Alli's hand shook as she grabbed for the phone she dropped on the floor. "What do you want?" she cried.

"Oh, not going to comment on my Snape impression? You always were such an ungrateful bitch. But, alas, I suppose I can answer. I want a show. What else is there?"

"You're sick," Alli whimpered.

"Shh, shh, don't say that baby," the voice jeered. "I want those to be your last words, and we still have some playing to do."

"What do you mean?" Alli screamed into the phone.

"I just want to help you relive your wedding day!"

Alli threw the phone to the ground and it shattered into a broken plastic mess as she ran for the kitchen door that lead to her back yard. Her screams returned as a black cloaked figure met her on the other side.

"Running towards me? You were always running towards trouble you naughty little girl."

She screamed and her skin tingled with fear as the oily, sadistic, electronically modified voice met her in person. She slammed the door shut, only to be thrown back as the door burst open with a kick from the cloaked figure.

She fell to the floor in a heap and crawled back on her hands, surprised she hadn't lobbed her own hand off with the butcher's knife. "Who are you?"

The figure laughed. "I'm better than the fictional Ghost Face. I have no name for I am your worst dream come reality. I am the exacter of justice, the righter of wrongs. Tell me, Alli, why do you deserve to live when other's had their time taken away before it could even truly begin?"

"Get out!" Alli cried.

The figure laughed as it pulled out a knife and stroked it gently over black leather gloved hands.

"Run little girl. I want this to be dra-ma-tic."

Alli threw the large knife blindly at the monster as she stood up and ran out of the room and towards the staircase. She vaguely heard the knife clatter to the floor on the way, but she couldn't think about that as she stumbled up the stairs.

The voice laughed behind her. It was so loud and so close, and she couldn't figure out how he had kept up with her.

"Good little Alli Bhandari. Copying dumb-white girl tropes since 2010. A shame you let your intelligence go to waste. You might have lived," the voice cackled as she slammed her bedroom door shut and locked it.

She stood away from the door in case he tried to stab her through it, and huddled down next to her dresser crying. "Go away! GO AWAY!" she screeched.

The voice laughed. "We knew you'd run to your room. You always were so predictable… why don't you check your bed?"

Alli froze and threw her head back against the dresser as tears of despair poured forth freely.

"Go on. Check your bed… I left you a little gift."

There was a pause. "NOW YOU LITTLE BITCH BEFORE I SET THIS WHOLE HOUSE ON FIRE AND BATHE CLARE IN YOUR ASHES."

Alli screamed as she threw herself across the room to scramble to her bed. She cried as she banged her shin against the leg of Jenna's bed, and a part of her was happy that she wasn't here for this. Jenna was a good friend who gave her a night alone in the house; she didn't deserve to be hunted by this demon.

She placed her hands on her bed and her heart stopped. There was a lump in the middle. Alli patted it up and down, and she knew it was a body. She refused to believe that.

"What is it? What did you put in my bed?" she cried.

"Lift the covers," the voice coaxed. "I guarantee it'll give you a thrill you'll never feel again. You're dying soon after all."

She shook her head at the thought.

"NOW!" the voice roared as it pounded on the door.

Alli screamed and pulled the covers off her bed, only to scream again louder and shriller than ever. "Dallas!" she screamed as she saw his cold, lifeless body in her bed.

"A casualty," the sadistic voice spoke. "Dallas was a nonissue, but we needed his body to torment you. He fought hard, but he died. You know, we offered him his life if he would help us get to you. He accepted, but we killed him anyway. Coward, really."

"You're lying," Alli screamed.

"Maybe I am. No less fun though! One last game, Alli, before you die. Let's say I give you a choice… on how to live, or how to die." The voice paused as Alli's cries turned to whimpers. "Open the door and let me kill you, and I'll make it quick. Stay in there, and I'll let you live the night. I'll just torment you for the rest of your short life."

Alli screamed as she looked for an escape. She found her window, and her heart filled with fear. She was on the second floor, but she had no choice. She approached it and began to open it when the voice spoke again.

"Window? As stupid as you may be, you were always good at finding solutions to problems. But, don't worry, we thought of that too," the voice roared as it broke out of her closet.

Alli screamed in terror. "There are two of you!?" she cried.

"Our cause is justice," the second voice spoke. It was kinder than the other, but it held no remorse. "And, Alli, you have to die."

Alli screamed and jumped out the window, only to scream anew as pain tore through her left arm. She tried to scramble to her feet, but her legs collapsed out from under her. The fall had damaged her legs too, but she couldn't feel it as she crawled entirely on the strength of her left arm through the moist grass. If she could get behind a tree, maybe they psychos wouldn't find her.

Those thoughts were lost on her as she heard footsteps approaching her.

"HELP, SOMETHING HELP ME!" she screamed, only to be silenced as the figure kicked her in the face.

"Shut up," it cackled.

Alli couldn't do more than whimper through her broken jaw.

"You thought you could run? The window was a brave option. Maybe you aren't as pathetic as I thought. I'll give you a mercy," the voice placated. "I'll only play with you a little."

Alli screamed as the figure stomped down on her right arm – or as much of a sound as she could get out through her mangled jaw.

"Does this remind you of anything?" the voice asked. "Your right arm being shattered, your face being hit, barely able to walk? Sounds like your wedding day."

Alli collapsed down to the ground, all fight leaving her as tears of suffering poured forth. "Please," she whispered.

"Don't worry, Alli," the voice coddled as the figure slid the flat end of the knife over her face. "You'll be free of pain soon."

The second figure approached behind the first. "We want you to understand why," the figure said as it began to remove its mask, and the voice was replaced by that of a woman's. "You understand now?" she asked.

And that, dear readers, is how Alli Bhandari died. She learned the identity of one of her attackers, and instantly knew the other. It all made sense to her. So much wrong, but sense nonetheless.

Alli Bhandari knew like all people that she would die one day, but not by the hands of one she trusted. She didn't even ask why they wanted her dead. That didn't matter at this point. All she wanted to do was ask, "Who else? Who do you hate so much that you would kill me to hurt them?"

She never got that chance as the knife met her throat. No, she didn't die. She still had a few minutes left to suffer; the knife only served to stop her from forming words.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now, a mostly experimental piece. Let me know what you think! I have the beginning, middle and end all planned out AND all the people who live and die, and how they die. Comment to let me know what you think of the style and serial killer AU. Guesses are welcome ;p
> 
> Death list: Alli, Dallas.
> 
> Who's next?
> 
> Tune in for the next chapter as news of this night hits the halls of Degrassi.


	2. The First Taunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this chapter for ages. Figured I'd finally post it :p
> 
> Also, I'm purposely writing this as a shitty horror movie! It's fun in its own way! Miles the flirty guy who should probably die, but I won't tell you one way or the other if that happens... and reading this reminded me of the thought of a Drew/Miles/Imogen threesome in true, horror movie fashion.

**Screams of What Could Have Been**

**_The First Taunt_ **

Miles thought it was odd that Zoë gave him a look as he took a seat next to her in class. Truly, he was used to  _the_  look as Tristan gave it to him every day as he took his seat three chairs down. Maya gave him another look; her eyes always scanned him with concern, but the worry that had haunted those cerulean eyes for most of their friendship had finally subsided. Zig sat nearby, but the only look on his face was the stupid grin he had whenever Maya was within eyesight.

But Zoë giving him a look other than the occasional glance of thirst was new. Her eyes looked frightened, and her lips trembled and opened before closing as if she wanted to ask him a question but was afraid to.

"What?" Miles asked. "Do I have something on my face? I haven't given a blowjob in weeks," he joked.

That failed to crack a smile on Zoë's face. "Didn't you hear?" she asked. "Two people were killed last night. An Alli Bhandari and Mike Dallas."

Miles frowned and he felt his eyes enlarge with shock. Dallas… he wasn't exactly friends with the guy, but he hadn't been the worst basketball captain. He never knew Alli, but he supposed it was sad to hear she had died.

"How?" Miles asked. "Car accident?"

Zoë shook her head. "Murder," she said plainly.

Miles felt his lips spread and laughter tore through his chest. "Murder? You sure about that?"

Zoë nodded. "They found the bodies. Dallas was nearly decapitated in her bed, and she was found crawling away from her house with a knife in her throat."

Miles blinked. "And the police released this information?"

"I don't know," Zoë muttered. "Everyone is just talking about it."

Miles nodded, and then heard Tristan give an exaggerated sigh.

"The killer sent out an anonymous text, with pictures, to all of their friends. You can hear Clare Edwards crying down the hall if you step anywhere near the student council room," the now-brunette boy stated, exhaustion by Miles' presence clearly in his voice.

Miles huffed. "Sure, Tris. As if everyone is as dramatic as you. Some of us can keep ourselves in check."

Tristan snorted. "As if you can."

"Touché," Miles agreed, giving Tristan this round. "So, Mr. Detective, what other news do you have?"

Tristan shrugged. "Not much. Apparently, the killer likes those that are tall with dark hair."

"No, that's just you," Miles quipped at Tristan's slight.

Tristan huffed and shook his head before returning to class.

Miles grinned triumphantly at his ability to get under Tristan's skin, before turning his attention back to Zoë. "So, how are you feeling about this?"

Zoë shook her head. "I don't know."

"Hey, look, I doubt the killer is after you for your… antics last semester," Miles said. "And if he is, I can keep you safe."

Zoë laughed drolly. "How's that?"

"My house has a nice security system, as you may imagine. Plus, there is a nice warm spot in my bed for you."

"If there's space, I'm sure it's cold," she replied.

Miles frowned. Unlike with Tristan, he rarely won conflicts of wit with Zoë.

His attention was captured by Maya who sighed. "Is now really the time to be flirting?" She shrugged Zig off as he decided to show her that it in fact was. "Two people we knew were murdered. We should be like investigating. These people had all of their friend's phone numbers. It has to be someone that goes here."

"Or they took one of their phones," Miles suggested.

"They would still have to know who all would care," Maya countered. "They knew to contact Clare. I heard they texted Drew as well. Jenna and Connor too, but I doubt you know them."

"I assume they contacted the police?" Miles asked.

"I don't know, probably?" Maya said. "I don't really talk to any of them more than I have to."

Miles smirked. "Still have the shame-filled crush on Drew?"

Zig fell forward in his seat and put a protective arm on Maya. "What crush on Drew? That guy is gross."

Maya shrugged his arm off. "You have nothing to worry about," she stated.

"Drew's not that bad," Miles retorted. "He's a pretty good guy once you get to know him."

"I'd rather not," Zig replied.

"Fair enough," Miles said, then checked his watch. "Why hasn't class started yet?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if they cancelled them all," Maya stated. "They'll probably lock us all in here and question us for what we know."

Miles sighed. "Well, that'll take forever. Police are useless. Isn't that right, Zoë?

The raven-haired girl groaned at the memories. "I sat in those rooms for hours while they wasted my time."

Miles nodded. "You know what this means?" He grinned as he saw Tristan's eye light up in his presence for the first time in weeks.

"Investigation," Tristan gushed, smile lighting his face.

* * *

 

The first step in the investigation was clear: talk to those who got the texts. They had words, they had pictures, and they might have some idea of what the motivation of the killer was. Tristan volunteered to talk to Clare, while Miles would talk to Drew.

Tristan had in fact not been lying, and they could hear Clare crying from down the hall. Miles smirked. "Good luck with her," which caused Tristan to huff as he marched off to the couch she was crying on as they entered.

Drew was at his presidential desk as Miles expected. Miles pulled out a seat opposite Drew without waiting for permission and kicked his feet up on the desk.

"Sup," Miles greeted.

Drew looked up from his phone. "What do you want, Miles? We haven't spoken in months."

Miles smirked. "I was starting to forget your pretty face. Regardless, let's be honest, Drew. We know the cops are useless, so some of us were thinking of investigating ourselves. You in? You did investigate into Zoë's rape last year."

Drew sighed. "There is a difference between rape and murder – I'm not about to put myself in the crossfire there."

"Don't make it so complicated," Miles said, then he shot forward and grabbed the phone from Drew's.

"Hey, give me that!" Drew yelped as he reached across the desk, missing Miles as he fell back into his seat.

"I know you were looking at pictures of the murder. I'm not dumb. Everyone knows you have them," Miles stated as he looked at the phone, and his eyes widened in shock.

"Yes, you are," Drew deadpanned.

"Boobs?" Miles asked. "Why are you looking at boobs at school? I mean, I understand, but why? Shouldn't you be focused on the murders?"

"Well, my best friends just died, I'm feeling understandably down," Drew said with a frown and a voice the barely stopped from cracking. "I just wanted something to get me uh… up."

Miles blinked. "Well… uh… sorry about Dallas," he said has he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "He was a pretty okay guy, I guess." He looked around the room awkwardly as Drew sat back in his chair with dead eyes. "But it would be best if you help us investigate – it's your best chance at revenge."

Drew frowned before speaking. "Look, Miles, I want to help, but I'm feeling really down right now and I need to focus on comforting Clare." He sighed. "Feeling down sucks."

"Well, I can't do much about that…" Miles paused, and then sat forward eyeing Drew up and down. "Actually, I can if you want to go find somewhere private."

Drew groaned and buried his head in his hands.

Miles grinned. "You're laughing! You know you are, even if just on the inside."

"Fine," Drew huffed. "It was slightly funny. I'll keep your offer in mind," he said with a roll of his eyes. "If I let you see the pictures, will you leave me alone? I promise I'll help you out in your  _investigation_ in a few days. I just need some time."

"Sounds good," Miles agreed. He waited a moment. "And?"

"Just hit back. There are some more boobs in there, but the picture should be no more than four or five back."

"Got it," Miles murmured as he began to flip throw the pictures.

After about 30 seconds, Drew interrupted. "What's taking so long? Did you not find them?"

"Nah, I found them. Just looking for dick pics first," Miles chirped as he put a hand up. "Don't worry, I found them. That offer is definitely open," he said licking his lips. "Actually, I'll text myself; well, on second thought, you do it. If you let me, I'll take the dick pics too."

Drew exhaled a slow breath. "Were you always this weird?" he asked as he grabbed his phone and searched for Miles' contact.

"Just trying to cheer you up," Miles replied.

"Sure," Drew dismissed. "I sent you the pictures – the murder ones."

Miles grinned as he turned away. "Thanks dude, we'll chat soon. Let me know if you hear anything else."

"Got it," Drew acknowledged. "Oh, and Miles, get a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or both."

Miles sighed. "That's the dream, isn't it?"

"I… guess?" Drew replied, but Miles already turned away to find Tristan waiting on him.

"Got anything out of her?" Miles asked.

"The only thing I got was heartburn watching whatever the hell that flirting was with Drew. Straight guys are your thing now? That's soooo 2010, Miles," Tristan huffed.

"Very funny," Miles retorted. "Any news?"

"None,' Tristan sighed. “She was crying about how Eli won't take her calls for the last week, and how she's afraid of the killers coming after her or more of her friends."

"Sucks," Miles dismissed. "I got some pics from Drew of the murder. I say we study them and look for clues."

"Sounds good," Tristan said. "I swear, if they're bloody, you're in charge."

Miles nodded. "I feel like there is a joke in there somewhere."

And, dear reader, there was. But, alas, murder is rocking the town of Degrassi, and our heroes have begun their investigations into a case well beyond their capabilities. Let's see who survives... and who dies.


	3. Taunt by Death

 

**Screams for What Could Have Been**

**_Taunt by Death_ **

Drew groaned into his hands as he racked his brain. He was still at school trying to figure out something for the end of the year dance, but his mind was drawing a blank. He just couldn’t get the fact out of his mind that two of his friends had been murdered. Usually, logistics and planning were Clare and Alli’s job… but Alli was dead, and Care was still mourning for her.

His thoughts wandered to Eli and he couldn’t help but feel sad for Clare. She hadn’t heard from him in three weeks, an at first she saw logic and thought that he was done with her after the drama of losing their baby… the thought always made Drew sad, because in some ways the baby felt like his too. He sighed as the thought was hardly worth thinking anymore.

It just hurt to see Clare in pain. He really had cared for her when they dated, and next to Bianca, she was the only girl that he had felt love for. Clare had spent all day crying and unable to do anything. It occurred to him that he should be concerned that he was alone at night with a murderer on the loose that showed an interest in him, but he couldn’t really care. His year had been shit so far, so death would just be a statistical anomaly.

The only thought that bothered him was that people would misread his actions tonight. He was staying late after school because he cared, not because he was some slow idiot that half the school thought that he was. He stabbed his pen into the paper at the thought. It always made him furious when people thought that he was some bumbling idiot.

He eyed the pen as the red ink pooled at the tip, watching with fascination as it collected in what reminded him of blood. He felt a tremble bounce though his body as he wondered if that was what it looked like when the psychopath stabbed Alli, or whatever the hell they did to Dallas.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when the ding of a text lit the room. He chuckled to himself as the fiery pain of his pseudo heart attack subsided. It was just a text. He really shouldn’t be thinking about blood at a time like this, but it wasn’t as if he were in any real danger.

The thought of “what if” wouldn’t leave his mind, and his fingers fidgeted as he flicked on his phone.

His heart stopped.

**_Unknown_ ** _  
You’re next!_

Drew gulped, and suddenly his throat ached in a way that it never had before, and his neck craned into positions he never thought possible as he checked every corner of the room around him.

Suddenly, he had no desire to be alone. Maybe it was time to take Miles’ offer seriously.

* * *

Clare blinked back tears as Jenna cried out to her. She sighed, but did her best to put on her caring friend face, and tried to mask Jenna’s tears in the den of the crowded café. Here she was wanting to cry about her own dead boyfriend, and Jenna was insisting that she care about Connor. Jenna did always have a hard time respecting other people’s boyfriends.

Clare sighed. She couldn’t even remember exactly when they became friends. It kind of just happened, and after the support Jenna showed her during her cancer, the past remained long forgotten. In a way, she owed it to Jenna to support her.

“When was the last time that you heard from him?” Clare asked, taking a sip from her coffee and nibbling on her favorite coffee cake that only The Dot served. She noticed again how crowded it was, and found it amusing and depressing that everyone was getting together to protect themselves from a murderer that probably wouldn’t think twice about them; but, perhaps, she was in the same boat?

Jenna sniffled. “About three hours ago. Right before last period.”

“Could he be taking a nap?”

“Connor never naps or ignores my texts,” Jenna replied.

Clare rolled her eyes. Connor was always a bit aloof, and while he did really care for Jenna, it wouldn’t be odd for him to ignore her for a short time. Though, Jenna’s reaction was to be expected. Human response was always intriguing.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Jenna. It’s been three hours. I haven’t heard from Eli in three weeks.”

Jenna’s face fell. “You’re right. I’m an awful friend. We should be ridiculing Eli together for leaving you. Really, he always treated you awfully anyway. We knew he would up and leave you in pain. That’s why Alli…” she winced at the name of their friend. “We were happy when you were with Drew. He may have had his flaws, but he wouldn’t hurt you just to hurt you. Eli is purposely hurting you right now. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he were the killer.”

Metal clattered as Clare slammed her hand down on the table, and a growl tore through her lips. “Stop it. How would you feel if I were to talk about your dead boyfriend? Connor was just a …” Clare stopped in her tracks as she started to cry. It was too much. Eli, the baby, everything everything! She shrugged off Jenna’s hand as she attempted to place a supportive hold on her shoulder. She couldn’t make herself feign care for Jenna as she cried out, but curiosity made her look up.

Her eyes found Jenna’s hand shaking around her phone, and the blonde’s voice broke as she spoke. “You want Connor? Come to the attached address. Tell anyone and your baby joins our list… Tyson was it?”

Clare’s eyes widened. “You can’t go,” she insisted. “I know you can’t tell the police, but what about Drew’s and Miles Hollingsworth’s little group. They’re trying to investigate the murders. Miles has money…”

Jenna shook her head and sighed. “Tyson… I can’t risk it. They said anyone, Clare.”

“Don’t go,” Clare said, trying to grab for Jenna’s arm, but her hand was shrugged away.

“I have to.”

Clare nodded, sipping at her coffee as Jenna left, almost proud of her friend’s resolute words.

Neither of them could stand to lose anyone else that mattered.

* * *

 

Jenna felt terror in her heart as she approached the building of the address. It was an abandoned warehouse of sorts in downtown Toronto, not that it surprised her. This shit was straight out of a horror movie, and for some reasons, she was now a target.

Terrified could hardly describe her feelings. She was angry. Angry that someone took Alli, Dallas and now dangled both her boyfriend and her child in front of her. Was this all for her? Or was she just a pawn in a game? The thoughts weren’t worth thinking. She had to save them. She had to save the guy who convinced her that some guys were worth having, and she had to save her son despite how awful of a mother she had been thus far.

She pushed the door opened and nearly jumped out of her skin as she got another text.

_Downstairs_ , it read.

She shuttered, but flicked on the flash light on her phone. It was no time to let her nerves get her. Out of everything in her life, this was live or die. She found the stairs behind a rusted metal door that was left open just enough for her to know that it was intentional. She had always had a problem understanding it when Clare or Eli talked about something being surreal, but she knew now that this was it. There was the faint sound of dripping water that added all the more to the sensation.

Half way down the stairs, and she began to hear static. The white, crackling static that she recalled from her childhood tv when the cable went out. It had never made her feel more unsettled. The crackling became louder as she reached the bottom, and her only option was to go towards it down a long hallway.

Her heart stopped as she saw Connor’s still body strapped to a chair, room lit only by the white static of a decades old tv and the piercing white of her phone’s flash light.

“Connor!” she cried running to him. His eyes popped open, but he couldn’t speak as he was gagged. A voice stopped her before she could remove it, and the static stopped. She gulped, turning away from Connor and to the TV she knew housed that voice.

“Jenna. So glad you could finally join us.”

She forced breaths through her nose as she struggled to get oxygen to her lungs.

“As you can see, you have two choices. Save your boyfriends, or…” The screen changed to a picture of her son, but the voice never went away. “Save Tyson.”  

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, the screen now returned to a steady void of black. It struck her now that the room was near pitch black short of her phone, and she turned it to Connor to look into his eyes. They were bloodshot and terrified, and his face looked like he had been victim of a beating. The light was dancing on his face, and only then did she notice how much she was trembling. She tried, but she just couldn’t stop.

She reigned in what logic she could. No one could know where her son was, not unless K.C. was the murderer… and that was certainly impossible. K.C. wouldn’t use their child as a threat, even if he were insane enough to want to hurt her. She could save Connor and get the police involved for Tyson before they figured out some way of tracking him down. Hell, she didn’t even know where Tyson was, and K.C. only rarely sent her photos of their son, despite her not particularly wanting him… she didn’t even want pictures of him, and she was choosing Connor over him. She was a horrible mother.

She ignored the voice taunting her as she removed Connor’s gag. “Are you okay?” she said repeatedly along with a hundred other things she could never recall. “I love you. I need you. Don’t die on me.”

Connor was out of breath as he tried to speak. “Jenna,” he wheezed. “Stop. Get the police and an ambulance.”

“Shhh, shhh. I’m going to untie you first, then we can bring you to a hospital,” Jenna promised as she shifted her phone to her left hand, and then untying the rope around Connor’s lower legs with her other.

“No, stop,” Connor croaked. “Don’t…”

Jenna ignored him as she continued to untie the ropes, the next being around his waist. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard him scream in a way she never heard another person scream before. “Connor, what is it?”

Connor sputtered for breath but couldn’t form words, and Jenna’s heart throbbed in a way that was almost painful. She couldn’t figure out why Connor wouldn’t speak, or why her hand suddenly felt soaking wet… she dropped her phone as she looked down to find her hand soaked in the unmistakable red of blood.

“No,” she whispered, and for that moment she didn’t care that her phone was face down on the ground and left her blind to the room around her. Nothing mattered anymore… She shook Connor and he didn’t move. Nothing mattered.

Until the voice cackled.

“True, we had no idea where your son was, but you allowed us to play with you anyway. Connor was never going to live, and we just wanted to see what choice you would make. It’s a shame. God let’s life be giving to a pile of shit like you, and you don’t even care to love him.”

Jenna let a sob tear through her body as she found her phone on the floor. She was half way to her feet when the metal door to the room closed.

“Not so fast,” the voice stated too calmly to be human. The screen changed to K.C.  “This is a livestream of K.C.’s home. He’s just about to graduate, much like you. It would be a shame if he were to share Connor’s fate.”

Jenna let the words sink in, and a large part of her just wanted to fall to the floor and let the killer have his way with her.

“Beg me. Beg me not to kill him, and I’ll consider it.”

“Please,” Jenna whispered meekly, not even having the energy to get off of her knees.

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Please,” she cried a little louder. “Don’t kill him. Anything. Please.”

The voice chuckled. “I thought so. First, don’t let the police get involved. If you do, the bomb we placed in K.C.’s home might just find a reason to blow. Second, tell Drew Torres about this. Tell him to tell his little murder investigation group about this. Let him know that everything we do, we do for him. And make sure he knows that the for once, the easy way out won’t work.”

Jenna nodded blankly.

“If you agree, you may leave. If you don’t… I’ll make you watch K.C. die, and then enjoy every moment of hearing you scream as I figure out just how this new knife works.”

“Okay,” Jenna sobbed. “I’ll let Drew know.”

The door to the room slowly opened, and she heard footsteps walk away.

“You may go.”


	4. Coalition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is outright awful, and I have embraced that fully. This story is designed to be crappy horror writing with inconsistent and weird characterization :)

"And," Jenna sniffled, tears long since spent, but words still mangled by cloged sinuses. "And then he told me to tell Drew. And now I am telling all of you."

She dry-sobbed and Drew gave her a pat on the back and pulled her close. They weren't ever particularly close, but they were friendly enough. And all of this was because of him. Some psycho was trying to get to him by hurting his friends, and Drew couldn't even begin to figure out what he had done to deserve this. He knew that he had made some people unhappy in the past, but this? This was unthinkable and he was in over his head.

At least he had Miles to help him out.

Miles was sitting on the couch, tapping his finger thoughtfully against his chin. Some of his friends were looking queasy at the story, but Miles was taking it seriously. Too seriously, so much that it seemed like a joke. Drew wanted to reach over and slap him, but he needed Miles' help and he knew Miles was just petty enough to make this hard if he did.

"This is… unfortunate," Miles noted. "A part of me was hoping that this was just some awful circumstance that someone killed Alli and Dallas, but with the death of Connor and the text to Drew… we do have a case on our hands."

Winston groaned loudly. "I still think we should call the police."

"We can't!" Jenna cried.

"But," Winston began, but Tristan cut him off.

"Winston, stop. You have nothing important to say."

"Rude," Winston pouted.

"Sidekick problems," Zig chirped.

"I am not a sidekick! Miles!?"

Miles shrugged with a playful smile on his face. "You kind of are…"

"Whatever, I'm leaving."

"Winston…" Miles began, but then let his friend run off. He didn't have time for this right now. They had a murder mystery on their hands. "Anyway, we can't go to the police, so we need to figure out a plan. So far, we know that anyone that has a connection with Drew is in trouble… who else do you know?"

Drew shook his head, his thoughts whirling with fear. He didn't want to miss anyone. "Becky, Imogen, Clare," he shook his head at Clare and the pain that her name caused. "Everyone else I know…" He couldn't finish his words.

The room was silent for a moment before Maya crossed over to Drew and put a hand on his shoulder. Zig gave her a look, which Maya shrugged off.

"It's not as if anyone else is trying to comfort them." And then she pulled Jenna into a hug as well.

"I watch a lot of crime shows," Tristan said. "And I think we should think about degrees too. Meaning," he added, seeing Drew's confusion, "that you should also consider friends of those friends you listed."

Drew nodded slowly. "Becky and Imogen are already close. She likes Jonah," he groaned. "Imogen and Jack are dating. And then Eli is already missing… You don't think Eli could be doing this, do you? He disappeared as soon as Clare miscarried… and, he does seem like the killer type."

Tristan gasped. "Eli Goldsworthy is not a killer type. He is," and then he released a shuddering sigh, unable to put his thoughts to words.

"Ummm?" Drew muttered. "Not the time?"

"Second that," Miles muttered.

"Jealous?" Tristan sneered.

"Guys, enough," Maya said. "I am not sure we are making the right decision, but if we are going to do this without the police, we have to be mature about it."

"Fine," Miles and Tristan said together.

Miles thought a moment before speaking. "I think Tristan is right. Drew, go and tell your friends. We'll meet back here tomorrow after school. If you hear anything, and I mean anything, let us know. Tristan, set up a group text."

And they all nodded, accepting the plan. Working together was the way to survive. They would have to rely on each other's talents, and Tristan's talent was clear: He loved gossip. He would keep them all informed, whether they liked it or not

* * *

Drew called Becky, Imogen and Clare to the Dot. Jenna came along with him. Clare was already at the Dot, so that worked.

"Guys, I got a text earlier," Drew said, after they all sat down. "You know the killer that… well, you know," he said with a sigh. "I got a text saying I'm next, and then…"

"They killed Connor!" Jenna cried. No tears, just a tear in her voice.

The girls all gasped, and Becky was in a near panic. Drew silenced them. "We can't go to the police, it will only make things worse. They said they'll kill K.C. and Tyson. This guy is sick, and I think he's after me. He is hurting those I know to get to me. Fucking insane, really. I just wanted you all to know so you can keep safe."

"Yeah," Imogen exhaled.

"You should keep an eye on your friends, in case they get targeted. We are meeting at Miles tomorrow after school to investigate and stuff, if you want to join. Miles has money, so I guess it is our best plan right now. This feels like a game to him, but he's a good guy. He wants to help."

Imogen grabbed Becky's hand. "We'll be there."

Clare shook the shock out of her and embraced Jenna. "I'll be there too. Sometimes I don't want to be alive, after the baby and Eli, but I want to protect my friends at all cost."

"Clare," Drew said slow. "Do you think Eli could be the killer?"

Clare froze like ice. "No, never." She shook her head. "I don't blame you for the thought. He was never stable, and I know he disappeared… but I know he isn't responsible."

Drew nodded. "I believe you. We have to trust each other to get through this."

They all nodded, accepting their friendship with all the faults that they had in the past.

The killer watched too, stirring their coffee calmly. They thought bonding together would save them, but really, it would make tearing them apart all the sweeter.

 


End file.
